


Sunset

by blackjacktheboss



Series: Maskless [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackjacktheboss/pseuds/blackjacktheboss
Summary: Part of the Maskless series aka an au where the weight of demigod life has left Percy feeling lostPercy crosses paths with an old acquaintance who knows a thing or two about a self-imposed exile





	Sunset

Six months after leaving New York, Percy sat with his toes in the sand of one of Fiji’s three hundred and thirty two islands. The ocean lapping at the shore had lulled Percy into a trance-like state, his eyes fixed on the blue horizon where sky and sea melted into one. The sun had begun its slow descent and the way its light bounced off the water cast the world into a heavenly glow that made Percy think of his mother’s smile. Lazily, Percy’s eyelids drifted shut as he leaned back and tilted his head up towards the sky like a sunflower begging for the attention of its namesake. _This is peace_ , he thought. Nothing but the sound of the ocean, feet in the sand and the sun raining its warmth down on the world.

“If you sit like that, you’re gonna miss the sunset,” a voice said teasingly.

Percy’s body went rigid as the familiar voice registered in his ears.  

The voice continued. “And I’ve got it on good authority that this one’s gonna be a masterpiece.”

Percy let out a slow exhale, feeling defeated. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t turn towards the figure now standing over him, but kept them fixed on the horizon.

“Lord Apollo,” Percy droned. “To what do I owe this enormous honor.” 

It wasn’t really a question. 

Apollo chuckled as he sat down, making sure to leave a few feet of space between himself and the hero. “I know the sound of disdain when I hear it, Perseus. But don’t worry, I’m not here with a quest.” 

Percy clenched his jaw and turned toward the god. “My name is Percy.” 

Apollo turned to meet Percy’s gaze, at first his eyes were the same gold as the sun but slowly began to turn a shade closer to amber. For a heartbeat, Percy feared he had overstepped and offended the god. As if sensing Percy’s creeping fear, the god turned back towards the horizon. 

“I am not here to hurt you, Percy. Aside from what your father might do to me if I did, that is not my reason for being here.”

Percy relaxed his shoulders and kept his eyes on the god’s profile. “Then what are you here for?” 

_Thalia was right_ , he couldn’t help but think. _Damn, he’s handsome._

Apollo turned back to face Percy. “To make sure you know your name.” 

Percy furrowed his brow, trying to unravel the riddle. _Oracles_ , Percy thought to himself. A small smile creeped onto Apollo’s face, seemingly amused by the demigod’s confusion.

“Do you know my name, Percy?”

Percy’s brow creased even more. “Apollo?”

“My other name. My real name.”

Percy chewed his bottom lip, mentally sifting through all the information he had catalogued about the gods through the years.

Hesitantly, Percy let himself think of Annabeth. He had spent the last six months pushing her from his mind every time she inevitably creeped in, but when it came to his life as a demigod, she was unavoidable. He tugged on that red string that began at his twelve year old heart, and wove through every meaningful memory up to the present. He followed that string through thoughts of prophecies, quests, and monsters until he arrived at the smaller moments. Her grey eyes. Her blonde princess curls. Her lips against his. The warmth he felt when she was tucked under his arm.

And there it was:

A warm spring day in Central Park. A romantic picnic. Percy randomly commenting how twins freak him out. Annabeth tucked into his side, laughing, asking “even _those_ twins?” Percy laughing as he asserted “ _especially_ those twins,” and Annabeth displaying her encyclopedic knowledge of Olympus in a way that made Percy fall even more in love with her.

All of this reverie flashed through his mind in the course of a minute, and as the answer came to Percy’s mind he felt his brow relax and saw Apollo’s smile widen. 

“Phoibos.”

The sky changed color then, capturing Percy’s attention once more. It smoothly transitioned from its golden glow to an ombré of yellows and oranges, with streaks of pink throughout. The color of the water changed to the dark blue of a sapphire to perfectly offset the sky’s display.

“Phoibos means ray of light. Or bright. Or shining one. Depends on who you ask, really,” the god said with a shrug. “English isn’t the most exact language.”

Percy continued to watch as different colors seemed to fade in and out of the sunset, the world bathed in the fading rays of its light all the while.

“No matter what, it amounts to light. That is who I am at my core, Percy. Light that can illuminate just as easily as it can burn. That’s why I’m the god of Oracles. No matter how cryptic a prophecy may seem, it is bringing light to some truth that can no longer sit in the dark. And that’s why I’m here.”

Percy kept his eyes on the sky in front of him.

“You’ve been in the dark too long. I’m here to help you find the light.”

Percy scoffed. “Help me? Since when do gods help anyone other than themselves?”

“When’s the last time you helped someone other than yourself?” Apollo asked.

Percy nervously bit the inside of his cheek as the sun descended a little more and a bit of light left the world. He could feel Apollo watching him but refused to meet his gaze.

“Percy, who are you?” the god asked.  

Percy’s heartbeat quickened at the question he had been asking himself for years now. 

He didn’t have an answer.

He wished he had an answer.

“Your name is Percy Jackson,” Apollo continued. “The son of Sally and Poseidon. The savior of Olympus, several times over.” 

“You don’t know me,” Percy said sternly, still refusing to look at the god.

“I may not know you, Percy, but I see you.” 

Percy’s jaw tightened. _Leave it to a god to think they know everything. Why can’t they ever just mind their business_.

“And what is it exactly you think you see?”

“That’s easy,” Apollo asserted. “I see a hero whose name demands respect among heroes and gods alike. And a man lost in the darkness of all the things he has suffered.” 

Percy bit down harder on the inside of his cheek and relaxed a bit as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His mind began racing.

_Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse._ _My name is Percy Jackson_ , he thought. _Son of Sally and Poseidon. A major fuck up who has good intentions._

“Names have power,” Apollo said knowingly. “Even the ones we don’t say out loud.” 

The sun finished melting into the sea as god and mortal sat in silence.

Darkness took hold of the world.

The darkness felt like home to Percy. It was isolating and cold, and even when you could make out the faint outline of things, they were nothing more than distorted and scarier versions of their once familiar selves. That is what Percy’s life had felt like. Everything, even the familiar things, were suddenly foreign and scary. No matter how he tried to sift through the dark, all he had found was more darkness. He had been plunged in the darkness so long, he had begun to fear the light. Darkness had become his normal. 

Percy didn’t want the darkness to feel like home anymore. 

“Phoibos, are you still here?” he said softly, barely audible over the crashing of waves. 

The sound of a loud snap rang out and a bonfire appeared in front of Percy.

Apollo’s voice seemed to whisper back from inside Percy’s head. “Always.”

* * *

The fire popped and crackled as it was fed a new piece of wood that appeared out of nowhere. Percy took deep, slow breaths, enjoying the mix of salt and smoke in the air. Apollo, for his part, sat opposite Percy and would periodically reach into the fire to rearrange the logs when they eroded into a formation he found unsatisfactory.

Silence hung between them and darkness danced at the edges of the light, encasing them in something fragile that they were both hesitant to break.

But a god only has so much patience.

“Do you miss your mom?” Apollo asked, dirtying his cloud white tunic with soot from the fire. “I missed my mom a lot when I did this.” 

Percy tilted his head slightly. “When you did what?”

Apollo looked up then. “A self-imposed exile, of course.”

“That’s not what I’m-“ 

“Answer the question. Do you miss your mom?”

“Yes,” Percy answered without hesitation. “Like the shore misses the sea.” 

Apollo laughed. “I’ll make a poet out of you yet, won’t I!” 

Percy found himself laughing a little too. “Fat chance! That’s what my mom would say to me whenever she dropped me off at boarding school. I would ask if she’d miss me, and she’d cup my face in her hands and tell me she’d miss me like the shore misses the sea…”

“I missed my mom too,” Apollo said, his eyes growing distant in the light of the fire.

“How long were you gone for?”

“In mortal time? Must have been… nine years or so. And you’d think to an immortal that would seem like nothing but when you’re all alone, everything seems to last eons.” 

Percy nodded, remembering how his social isolation had seemed to age him twenty years. Even thinking back on those times, they seemed to stretch out in front of him like a boundless mountain range. 

“Why did you leave? I don’t think I know this one.” Percy said. 

Apollo put his arms behind him and leaned back, settling in. 

“The myths will tell you father sent me away for killing a child of the Earth. But really, I knew I owed a debt for the life I had taken, monster or not. Killing always comes at a price.” 

Percy felt the truth of those words in the depths of his being. Killing monsters was still killing. There was a toll to pay and he had been making payments for most of his life. 

“The Great Snake had just plagued me and my mother for so long and I knew it would never end unless I ended it.”

Percy watched the god tell the rest of the story, enraptured by the humanity of it. Apollo spoke of his love for his family, particularly his mother; he spoke of a fight that was bigger than him, of feeling like a pawn in someone else’s game. Percy never knew a god could feel like that.

For so long, he had felt like nothing more than the plaything of immortal beings. Beings who had no concern for the consequences their petty games had on the soul of a mortal man. His eyes traced the lines of Apollo’s face as the story went on, and it was as if he were looking at his own reflection. 

“You were just a kid,” Percy found himself saying. “I mean, even for a god.”

Apollo nodded slowly. “I was indeed young. But you and I both know first hand that the Fates pay no mind to youth when they pull a string.”

Percy played with the sand in front of him, feeling grounded by the coarse feeling grasped fleetingly in his palm. _This must be what my life seems like to a god_ , he thought. _Tangible one second and gone the next. Hell, that’s what my life feels like to me._  

“I’m sorry we asked so much of you at such a young age, Percy.” 

Percy shrugged. “Like you said, the Fates don’t care how old you are. They just need a hero.”

“Fates or not, like all those centuries ago, I am here to make amends.”   

Apollo stood abruptly, and with him the first tendrils of sunlight began to disrupt the darkness. 

“Make amends how?” Percy asked skeptically.

“No respectable exile is complete without a purification, and as the god of healing, it would be my honor to perform the ancient rites for you. I will take you to the place where your father’s trident cut through rocks and consecrated a holy place.”

“Where the hell is that?” 

“Tempe.” 

“Arizona? Why the hell would we go to Arizona.” 

“No, not Arizona. The Vale of Tempe.”  

“Never heard of it.” 

“You must have, it’s very well known.” 

“Nope, never.” 

Apollo spoke louder and slower. “V-A-L-E OF T-E-M-P-E” 

“It doesn’t matter how you say it, it will not change the fact that I don’t know where the fuck that is.”

“What is Chiron even teaching you all at this so-called camp?I mean, honestly-”

“Apollo!”  

Apollo held up his hands in surrender. “No matter. Listen... I know you have no reason to trust a god. I understand that you have suffered at the hands of my kind your whole life. But as you have suffered, so shall you heal. The ancient Greeks did not only worship us because of fear, Percy. They found the hope in us as well. They had faith.”

Just as the sun rose a bit higher in the east, its rays now reaching slowly around the island like arms wrapping it in a hug, the word faith echoed through Percy’s mind. He thought back to when he first had his faith tested at twelve years old. Back then, he knew his dad loved him and his mom the same way he knew the sky was blue. There was no questioning it, it was a fact.

And then he was at the top of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, standing opposite Echidna. He remembered her words, the way they slithered out of her mouth like a snake. _“If you are the son of Poseidon, you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline… You have no faith. You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little coward.”_

Percy had never wanted to be a coward.

Apollo held his hand out to Percy, as if awaiting a handshake. “My name is Phoibos, son of Leto and Zeus. I am the god of many things, but most importantly I am the god of Light and Healing. And if you let me, I would like to help you.” 

Percy considered the god for a moment. The first time they had met, Percy had thought him to be just another god who viewed heroes as playthings and annoyances. Another immortal concerned with nothing more than his own vanity. But here Phoibos stood, at the other end of a long night spent mostly in silence with a washed up hero, simply asking for an ounce of Percy’s consideration.

All of Percy’s darkness whispered to him to distrust the gesture; it wanted him to rebuff the god, to see some alternative, evil motive to this supposed offer of help. He could feel the cold of it inside his chest, that seed that often bloomed into anger and reaped loneliness and heartache. It was easy enough to give into but when Percy looked up into the eyes of Apollo - no, not Apollo, Phoibos - all he saw was Light. And gods, how he craved the light and its warmth. 

Percy stood and took a deep breath, remembering that day he stood looking down at that river, afraid for his life. Back then, he prayed and jumped. He hoped he could do that again. 

He wiped the sand from his hands before finally reaching out to take Phoibos’. “My name is Percy Jackson, son of Sally and Poseidon. Some call me the savior of Olympus but really... I’m just a kid from New York.”

As soon as New York crossed the threshold of Percy’s lips, a glow began to emanate from where his hand held Phoibos’. 

“What the hell is that?” Percy asked.

“That,” Apollo said with a smile, “is the power of your name.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, a major thank you to my Hannah who is more than I deserve.


End file.
